Crash and Burn
by darknessfalls28
Summary: Set after "This Little Piggy". I'm sure, for most fans, the next episode was where things started going way wrong. I did not like the way the whole Saxon thing panned out. So in my version, Yates has been established as the brain surgeon. Hannah may or may not appear later. What follows is our two lovable characters, trying their best to fix themselves & each other. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Dexter**

I slowly exhaled as we pulled up outside Deb's house after dropping Dr. Vogel home, after making sure nobody had followed or seen us. It had been a difficult 24 hours. With my sister trying to drown us both, Evelyn kidnapped and rescued, and finally putting the brain surgeon to rest in his watery grave, it was time to take a break from the madness. Even for me. But I couldn't help but feel the last vestiges of resentment towards the person sharing my personal space. How could she act so rashly, so thoughtlessly, without thinking of my son, her innocent nephew? Without thinking of how the whole incident, if it had transpired, would have exposed our father to posthumous shame and humiliation? Harry, who had given us both life, albeit in different ways, deserved an honourable memory.

Most of all, my anger stemmed from the fact that she had finally betrayed the trust I had in her. Inside, I know I deserve it, and have absolutely no right to feel this way after all I've done to her. I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She's a shadow of her former self, but I can't possibly be responsible for all of it. Could I? Who's to say that she wouldn't have screwed up her life anyway? She's not perfect – she knows it and I know it. Still, it gives me no right to blame her for what happened yesterday. I'm not usually fooled by appearances, but right before it happened, when she walked towards me outside the police station, I could have sworn I've never seen her look so peaceful, nor was her smile ever more beautiful. That's the Deb I always want to see, and I've made it impossible for her to smile now. Evelyn was making good progress with her, and had warned me not to meet her without her okay. But I couldn't stay away, could I? I couldn't leave her alone, although that's exactly what she needed.

I will give her the space she needs now. I won't be a thorn in her side. She's on the path to recovery, and with the good doctor's help, she'll make her way out of it. It's time to let go. Without really thinking about it, I went over to her side of the car and opened the door.

Her smile was uncertain when she said, "Wow Dex, does this mean I'm forgiven?"

I amiably replied, "Just trying to get back into your good books." In retrospect, that might have sounded like a sarcastic jibe. I should have punctuated it with a smile.

I led her back to her beach house and she unlocked the door.

"Do you want to... I don't know, come in and talk… maybe?" she looked up at me with pensive eyes, her fingers fiddling with the doorknob.

I pretended to look at my watch. "Don't think so, Deb. Not tonight. Need to relieve Jamie, she has university tomorrow, I think." Another lie. " Besides I really want to be with Harrison, maybe read him a bedtime story. I haven't been the world's greatest dad lately, what with…. Maybe another time."

"Umm… I'll make it quick... just a few minutes, Dex? Please? I feel like I need some closure."

"What you need is a good night's sleep." I told her. What we needed to clear with each other would take more than a few minutes to talk about. There was just so much baggage, and this really wasn't the time. Although she seems to need me right now, I've been deceived before.

"Listen, Deb. Just forget everything, alright?" My voice came out colder than I intended, but I continued. "Report back to Dr. Vogel tomorrow. I've told her I'm done with her after taking out the brain surgeon, but you two feel free to stay in touch. She's the one who can help you, not I."

Her eyes dropped to the ground. "Ok, if that's what you want." She looked up, and I saw sadness in her eyes. "Don't leave me, Dex."

My naïve little sister! As if I would ever leave her. As if I _could_. "It's ok, Deb. We'll see each other around. You take care."

I returned her weak smile as I turned around and walked back to my car. She shut the door behind her. End of round one.

**Debra**

He hates me. He hates me now. He doesn't trust me, feel safe around me anymore. I put Harrison in indirect danger, and he doesn't want an unstable person around his precious son. How ironic that he's the serial killer and I'm the one that can't be trusted. Maybe he's right. Maybe our relationship has an expiry date that's long past. The end began when I discovered who he was, and now he's discovered who I really am. A liar, a hypocrite.

All my life I pretended that I was this person with upright morals, always judging those around me. Forget Dexter, I've been unable to hold on to any person for too long. I drove my father away with my whining and neediness. I've broken the hearts of men like Anton and Quinn, who gave me nothing but happiness. I've destroyed evidence, let murderers get away, even before I knew the truth about my brother. I've admitted aloud that I would have killed Jordan Chase and gang myself if I had the chance. I killed my own captain. Elway helped me even though he didn't have to and I'm bitchy as hell to him. And after everything I've always said about family, I tried to murder my own brother, a single father to a helpless little boy.

With trembling hands, I open my first bottle of beer. Whatever! I tried. There's no other way to deal with this. Why wouldn't he talk to me? He chased me for months, and I didn't realize how important that was to me. I took it for granted, and now I've pushed him away too. I need to convince him to give me another chance. With shaky fingers, I dial his number. I don't know what I'm going to say but I do it anyway. No answer. I try again. And again. Countless times. His mailbox was full, no space even to leave him a voicemail. I grow increasingly frantic. I slurp down the contents of the entire bottle and open a second one. He's never coming back, I know it. Deep in my heart, I know all is lost. There's no use in anything. No use trying to get back to a normal life, the same boring routine. I'm going to hell, and soon. Might as well party all the way there. I glance at my second bottle. It was empty, just like I felt inside. I'd managed to save these two, but now I had run out of alcohol and still didn't feel numb enough to drown out the anguish in my chest. "Dexter!" I sob into my disconnected phone. "Dexter!"

I'd made a number of unsavoury friends during my not-long-past coke addiction days. Working as a PI really opened up the underground networks for me. I knew all the contact people – methheads, alcoholics and worse. I felt a sharp, illicit thrill at the thought of getting high. Quickly, I rummaged through my contacts list and dialed the first number I found. "Hello? Hey Jesse! How you doin', my man? Where's the party on tonight?"

**Dexter**

I heard Jamie's voice before I heard my alarm the next morning. And the jiggling of spare keys at the door. "Dexter?" "Shit!" I muttered, hurrying out of bed as I felt the warm, late morning Miami sun. I was late, again, and had run out of reasons to make Masuka cover for me. Hurriedly showering, I thought, nice way of getting back to routine life. I would grab breakfast on the way. Thank goodness Harrison's school was closed today, or he would be late as well. Jamie was going to watch him while working on her dissertation. What a blessing that girl is. I must've done something very, very good. Ha.

My cell phone battery had died sometime during the night. I dumped it and a charger into my bag and rushed out the door after a hurried goodbye to my son and his nanny.

"Hola, sleeping beauty. Looks like someone got some boo-tay yesterday, huh?" came Masuka's inevitable snigger. "No such luck, Vince." I muttered. Luckily there was no emergency crime scene today. Yet. Just routine blood work. Nothing my exhausted brain couldn't handle like any other day. I'm good at compartmentalizing_. _Unlike Deb. I'd better check up on her, make sure she's hauling her ass back to therapy. I connected my charger and switched on my phone. No missed calls or texts from her. She's probably overslept too. She's not going to keep her job much longer if she doesn't snap out of it.

"Come on, pick up." I muttered for the eighth or so time today, willing her to hear the ringing. I texted her to call me back as soon as she reads this. I went about my daily tasks, laying low and not speaking much. The truth is, I was starting to worry. An unnamed fear gnawed away at my insides. I shouldn't have left her alone last night. Yawning, I looked at my watch. Half an hour to go. "Screw it." I decided to head out early. I'll head to the supermarket and pick up a couple of Porterhouses. I'll surprise her by showing up directly, although she'll probably bite my head off for waking her up. But she needs to eat, so maybe she'll forgive my intrusion.

Besides, it's been so long since our ritual. It started out with her bugging me to do more "brother-sister stuff", but over time I have to admit, it had become a sacred bonding experience for both of us. Somehow we opened up better over a couple of steaks and beers. In the calmness of the night, our conversations were always delightful, sometimes lighthearted and goofy; sometimes downright gossip (from her side of course); other times deep and nostalgic, even melancholy; and sometimes we just watched a movie quietly, but every moment was memorable in its own way. Even though she hadn't the first clue who I was, I've clung on to her words every so often to get me through my double life successfully. _A steak worth living for_. She was the reason I decided against turning myself in when Doakes had almost talked me into it. It was the thought of taking away her last support, the fear of seeing the heartbreak on her face, and not the fear of electricity burning my body to a crisp, that kept me from admitting everything. If it wasn't for her I would most likely have been captured, out of control or dead long ago. Yes, this was exactly what we needed. To talk things out calmly like adults, and decide to move on with our lives.

When I got to her house, the door was locked. As least she's taking security seriously, in this city. I let myself in with my spare key, and headed straight to the fridge to put away our dinner. "Deb! Time to get up, sleepyhead!" I called. When she didn't answer, the sinking feeling returned. I headed towards her bedroom. "Deb? You home? I've been calling all…." I flung open her door. Empty. "Ok…" Maybe she's with Evelyn. That might explain the lack of contact – the doctor was particular about locking up distractions.

As soon as I heard the familiar British accented "Hello?" I quickly got to the point, "Hi, Dr. Vogel, hope you're doing ok. I'm sorry to be disturbing your session, but I was just wondering if I can take Deb off your hands tonight?"

"Thanks for calling, Dexter. I'm very well, thanks. But Debra's not here. I thought you and she needed your time, so I didn't get in touch with her today. It was a big breakthrough, you know. But she needs you more than me at the moment." How easily I had assumed the opposite.

"What do you mean… she's not with you… where could she possibly be? I've been trying her cell all day."

"She has a job, Dexter. Try her office – you might be surprised!"

"This late… not likely, but ok, thanks. I'm sorry… not sure why it didn't occur to me that she probably has a backlog too. Alright then, I'll talk to you later." I hung up.

A brief call to Elway confirmed my fears – Deb hadn't shown up for work, nor had she called in sick. And so the hunt begins again. I had better search for her as quietly as I can before involving Quinn or her other friends, just in case. Come to think of it, I don't even know who her friends are these days. I called her cell phone once more, and this time it did not even ring.

I slunk around her apartment, looking for clues. Two empty beer bottles on the centre table – that did not look good. Her bedroom was the usual – clothes strewn everywhere, lights left on. I checked her medicine cabinet, as I'd been keeping tabs on her antidepressant medications, but she didn't appear to have overdosed, or even taken her regular dose for the past few days. Returning to the living room, I noticed the light on her answering machine blinking. I hit the button and the message began to play… a slightly slurred young male voice said, "Yo, babe. Just assumed you remembered the address, sorry. Hope you haven't already got lost. It's 2956 Huntsville. See ya." Silence.

Ok, that was almost too easy. It sounded like a residential address, although I'm not sure what I'd find there. Was this an ex-boyfriend? A dealer? Time to find out.

My suspicions were confirmed. I pulled up at the address, which was a neat-looking townhouse. I could faintly hear the music that was blaring inside the house. Concealing my weapon just in case, I rang the doorbell and waited patiently. The door was opened partly by a scrawny-looking guy, the safety chain still on. "Wassup, man? You a cop? We can turn the volume down if the neighbour's whining."

"No", I replied calmly.

"Well… mind giving me the password then?"

"I'm not looking to buy. I'm searching for one of your possible guests. Debra? Is she here?"

"No entry without the password, Romeo," he stiffly repeated.

"Look here, I'm not a cop and I don't want any trouble." I warned him. "But if you don't let me in, I know someone who'll bust you before you can say Mary Jane." I pushed my foot in the doorway, preventing him from shutting it in my face.

"Yo Pete, what seems to be the trouble?" came a more authoritative voice from inside. I recognized that voice. The same one on Deb's answering machine.

"I'm looking for Debra Morgan. I don't want to have anything to do with you guys, you can keep right on doing whatever it is you're doing in there. I just need to find her. Now." I snarled quietly but menacingly.

"Let him in, quick!" said the answering-machine guy, a surprisingly pleasant looking college-age boy. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared me down. He gestured towards the heaps of wasted people sprawled on the floor and the couch. "You see all these people? I can't recognize most of them even when I'm sober. Check each one, and see if you can find who you're looking for. And then get the hell out of here." He reached behind him and turned up the volume again on his huge state-of-the-art speaker system. It was definitely a grand rave party, with empty pizza boxes and broken bottles lying about, and strange smells from the various substances being smoked and snorted. I was the only sober person in the house. One look around the room and I ruled out Deb being one of them. "She isn't here." I turned to the host. "Jeez, aren't you quite the whiner! Does this look like the entire house to you? It's a five-bedroom," he replied haughtily. "Go upstairs, be my guest. I can't guarantee that she's even here. Now stop bugging me, bitch."

Upstairs was eerily quiet at first. As I headed towards one of the bedrooms, I heard the muffled sounds of a mock struggle, followed by loud giggling. I yanked open the door. "Hey! Come join us, handsome!" "No thanks." I proceeded down the corridor. At length I came to the last one. Slowly I opened the door.

And there she was. Writhing and moaning on the bed, my foster sister. She wasn't alone. The man on top of her had his left hand locked in her hair, and was undoing the buttons on her shorts with the other hand. She seemed to be struggling to free herself, but was either too weak to fight him off or didn't seem to really care. I delayed only a split second before roaring, "DEBRA!" I pounced on her companion, yelling "Get your filthy hands off her, you son of a bitch!" Rage made me stronger, and although the heavyset, tattooed man was larger than me, I also had the element of surprise. I pulled him off her roughly and flung him to the floor. He slowly looked up at me, but instead of aggression I only saw the confused look of a confirmed junkie. He rose to his feet unsteadily and rushed towards me, but was so disoriented that he fell against the wall next to the door. In a rare show of pity, I nudged him outwards. "Get out. And stay out." I commanded, and with one final shove, pushed him out the door and locked it from the inside.

"Now, you," I turned back towards Deb, my voice low but dangerous. "What were you thinking? What the _fuck_ are you doing in a place like this? I thought we had come to a truce. " My eyes followed her as she slowly shifted back towards the headboard. Her eyes were glazed over and looked wild and lost. She groaned and scratched her face and arms repeatedly, as if fire ants were crawling over her. She was drunk, and stoned out of her mind. I composed my face so as to not startle her further, and started moving slowly towards her. She shrank away, and a terrified sob escaped her lips. Even in her state, she could see the concealed anger in my eyes. The anger of a killer. She was scared. But not just of me, I realized. She was scared of the fact that I caught her like this, of how her life ended up like this, and that this wasn't even the worst of it. She was scared that she'd lost herself forever.

I approached the edge of the bed and called out to her, "Debra. Please…" She was still backed up, breathing unevenly. "D-D-Dexter?" she mumbled finally. She peered hard at me shortsightedly, trying to convince herself of who I was. "You… came." She stated. "You're… angry. You… left me… you came..?"

"I've come to take you home, Deb." I said quietly, and held out my hand towards her. "Come closer, please… I won't hurt you." _And I won't let you hurt yourself_. Hesitatingly, she crawled forward until we were face to face, and sat down with her legs folded to one side beneath her, elbows resting on her thighs, her hands clasped and head bent. I lowered myself onto my knees on the bed, so that we were at more or less the same level. Her loss of dignity broke my heart, and my eyes prickled. I had let her flounder by herself for far too long. I had been a coward, avoiding responsibility for what I'd done to her, waiting for her to come around on her own, to "see the light", well guess what... there was none. She was the good one, the normal one. She didn't owe me anything. Yet she's given me everything. I have to give back. I have to start now.

I reached out and touched her shoulder. "Deb, look at me. It's ok." She looked up, and then launched herself at me suddenly with a scream, grabbing my shirt collar and shaking me hard. My arms went around her, restraining her firmly but gently. After a brief struggle she dissolved into incoherent sobs. I kept one arm around her shoulder and back, and with my left, I pulled her head to rest on my chest. I placed a kiss on the top of her head, while continually stroking her disheveled hair. "It's all going to be ok. I'm here now. I've got you. Don't worry. About anything. " I whispered. We remained in our silent embrace for a few minutes, till she was all cried out. Her hands slowly shifted towards me, clutching at my elbows. I pulled back and looked into her red-rimmed eyes. Suddenly she was 14 years old again. That same questioning look, half terrified, half full of anticipation.

Deb had been crushing on a boy from her track team since forever. Lately she had been acting very girly – putting on makeup, doing her hair, wearing dresses instead of her usual casual jeans. It was obvious to me that he had finally started paying attention. I caught her agonizing over a tiny zit on her forehead. "No way! This is so unfair! Why today, of all days?"

"I can't even see it, Deb. So stop slathering that stuff on. You'll look like a clown on your first date. And believe me, boys don't care."

"Yeah, I know… I'm probably overthinking everything… it's just that…. It's _Aaron_, you know. I want everything to be just perfect now that he's finally asked me out."

"Well, that's up to him to plan out. All you have to do is have fun, and look pretty. And you already do. _Smile!_" I pushed up the corners of her face, trying to force a smile.

"Stop it, Dex!" She laughed. Then she hesitated. "You know… what if the date does go well? What if he wants to… I dunno… kiss me? I've never… " she fidgeted.

"Deb, you really should ask one of your girls about this. I definitely don't know anything about kissing guys. Or girls, for that matter. How about you give Katy a call? "

She rolled her eyes. "I already have the gross details. More than I wanted to know. And anyway all that talking doesn't really help. I'm still nervous as hell that I'll screw it up. I can't screw this up, Dex!" She looked up suddenly. "Hey… listen… can I sorta.. practice on you?" her words tumbled out in a rush.

I raised one eyebrow. "What do you mean, practice on me?"

"I mean just once. Just to clear out my nerves, get the hang of it. You're a guy, you would know how to rate me. It would just be like helping a friend rehearse for a part."

"I don't know, Deb… you're my sister. It's just weird… and what if Harry caught us? We'd both be grounded for life." _Not to mention he'd probably kick me out of the house for breaking my "normal" cover._

"He's not at home. _Pleeeease_, Dex? It's not a big deal. I just want to know that I'm not a complete disaster. I'd owe you one. I'll do your laundry for a week. What say?"

"A month."

"Two weeks."

"Done."

She beamed at me. "Thank you! You won't regret it. K… come on then, let's rip the band-aid off." She walked towards me till we were facing each other.

I looked at her face, pretty in a very special, unconventional way. Her lips were free of makeup, still naturally pink and soft-looking. "Ok Deb. Now just relax, alright? Take a deep breath."

She inhaled in an exaggerated way, then exhaled with a whoosh. "Ok, I'm relaxed."

"Ok… " I murmured. Slowly, I put my hands on both her shoulders. Our eyes locked. She looked unsure, and I'm not sure what exactly she saw in my eyes but she began to look scared. This was very intimate, and although it sounded cliché, it's probably true that eyes are the windows to our souls. That is to say, for people who possess one. Maybe she could see the blankness in my eyes, the emptiness, and was freaking out without knowing the reason why.

"Close your eyes." I instructed her. She obeyed, blushing slightly. My hands moved upwards to cup her face, and I drew her closer to me. I could feel her breath now. Closer. A slight gasp. Closer, and closer, until our lips met in a light brush. For a few seconds I just held us there. And then she responded, with gentle pressure, testing the waters, molding her lips around mine. Closing my eyes, I gave in. She was much better than she gave herself credit for. Once again, I had a teacher. Harry taught me survival, I learned studiously. Deb taught me how to love, slowly over the years, and I learned. Involuntarily, I put one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. I gently kissed her back, cradling her head with my other hand, both of us breathing with a rush only through our noses. I began to feel a bit unsteady. I couldn't explain what was happening. It was not something sexual – it was more than that. I felt my mask slipping. Something began to open up inside me, and I felt a new need for the first time, the need to share myself with another human being, to be myself, to not hide anymore. She would understand, she would. I'm not a killer yet, just one in training. I can tell her, she'll pull me back. She can save me from becoming something monstrous. On the other hand, she could hate me. Worse, she would be terrified of me, maybe fearing for her life, when I would give mine to protect her. It's too big a risk, too heavy a burden for her. This couldn't happen. I couldn't let it happen. Harry always said that the only way to protect the ones closest to me was to keep them at an arm's distance.

I shut down my treacherous feelings before they could take over. My eyes snapped open, and I broke the kiss. She looked calm, if a little confused. "What's wrong, Dex?" she asked plaintively. "Was that ok?"

"Yeah… " I surprised myself by falling short of breath. Quickly I recovered, plastering a goofy grin over my face. "You're… not too bad. Good to go, really."

She whistled in relief, and started giggling uncontrollably. I turned and looked at myself in her dresser mirror. Seeing the expression on my own face I burst out laughing too. The tension was broken. I had given her what she needed… confidence, support, and we could go back to normal now.

We never spoke about it again, after that day. With surprising resilience, things returned to normal for my adopted sister the second she opened the door to greet her date. Deb and he got along great; she dated him for a few months, underwent the inevitable heartbreak, and then moved on to other boys, like a normal teenage girl. I was glad I didn't pull her down with me. It pleased me to have given her that first push. The launching pad for what was hopefully a normal, happy life for her. But we never spoke about it again. Our first kiss. Hers and mine, both.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dexter**

I gazed at the broken woman before me now. The plan had not worked. Shutting her out had not worked. Stubbornly, lovingly, she had pounded on the wall for years, forcing her way into my personal hell. She wanted so badly to see beneath the surface, and what she had uncovered had destroyed her. And even then, there was a part of me that was glad to have let her in. Even after surveying all the damage, I can't honestly admit that I would have preferred it any other way. That's how selfish I was. I wanted her to know. And even then, I wanted her on my side. I couldn't accept that she might hate me, even though I'd corrupted her soul. I needed her acceptance, even her approval. I needed her. I always have. I won't let the darkness swallow her. I'll pull her back out if it's the last thing I do. It's the only way I know how to survive. I will never give her up.

"I will never give you up. Do you understand me?!" I almost shouted. When she didn't respond, I repeated in a lower voice, "Do you understand me, Debra?" I forced her to look at me and stroked her cheek with my thumb. She nodded. "Come on, we're leaving." I said urgently. I stood up, grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. "My head hurts," she complained, and swayed on the spot. I carefully put one arm around her waist to steady her, and walked her to the door. I unlocked it with one hand, then went back to holding her up. "Lean on me. One step at a time," I told her, as we reached the staircase. She followed my lead blindly, not looking around, unmindful of the chaos surrounding us.

I nodded to the host, motioning to him to open the door and let us out. Once she was tucked away in the passenger seat with her seat belt fastened, I started up the engine without any delay. We needed to get out of this area fast. Night had fallen, and Harrison would be waiting for me. But I couldn't take her home immediately and risk him or Jamie seeing her this way.

I drove us to her apartment first, and sat her down on the couch. "Give me a minute," I muttered, dialing Jamie's number. After I confirmed that they were good for another hour or so, and that Jamie would put Harrison to bed after dinner, I hung up and joined Deb on the couch. She was leaning against one of the arms, panting and frowning. "Are you ok?" I asked her, taking her hand. "Unn-huh."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

She rubbed her forehead and moaned.

"You're badly dehydrated. Wait here a sec." I went into the kitchen and filled up a glass of cool water. I brought it to her lips and she sipped slowly at first, then took it out of my hands and gulped it down at full speed. "Easy!" I cautioned.

"Want… more," she wailed.

"Ok, ok." I handed her another glass. She drank like she'd been thirsting for days. Probably because of all the alcohol and whatever else she had been taking for the past 24 hours. When she'd had her fill, she handed the empty glass back to me and leaned back against the sofa, eyes closed. We sat quietly for a while as I looked at her cautiously.

Finally, I broke the silence. "Deb, we need to talk about this. I don't know what you were thinking, but you had me really worried. No matter what you think of me, it is still my business what happens to you, ok? So don't you even tell me otherwise. You could have been hurt! The people there were not in their senses. The police could have showed up, or worse - there could have been a shootout, anything could have happened. Why would you put yourself in that position? I told you we were fine, didn't I? There was no need for this."

She opened her eyes, and said shakily. "You didn't stay… you left me. You didn't answer… when I called. So many times. After what I did – I tried to kill you. I thought you were never going to talk to me again. I have no one else, Dexter. I didn't see the point… of trying."

"But I was going to get back to you the next day, Deb. All I wanted was to give you a little space. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She shook her head.

"You – didn't want me to give you space?"

"No. No, No, NO, NO!" she placed her hands over both her ears and shouted repeatedly. I realized she was in no position to be reasoned with.

"All right, all right Deb, calm down. Calm down. I'm not fighting with you. I'm not leaving, ok." I tried to grab her hands and turn her towards me, but she swatted my hands away.

"Do you know why I tried to kill you? Because you wouldn't ssss..stop! You wouldn't ever stop being a selfish dickhead. Where were you when I needed you?!" She screamed. "Where were you when I was ss-struggling with what I had learned? I was covering your ass, trying my best to help you, and you were out fucking that blond slut!"

"Deb, I…."

"Where was all your concern, when I was begging you to stop killing? When I told you it would affect everyone around you, your family. Rita's dead because of you, Harrison was kidnapped because of you, I'm a killer because of you, and what are you doing? Stalking your next victim. And then BEHAVING like a victim. Acting like you care, when I know all too well you'll only manipulate me again for your dirty work! And I! I know this, and again, and again, I let you do this to me. I can't fucking let go of you. I can't fucking live without you, I'm cursed… I'm…. sick…"

I lost it, and grabbed her by the shoulders, pinning her between myself and the couch. "Shut up, shut up right now, Deb." I warned, placing my hand over her mouth, careful not to suffocate her but firmly enough to muffle her screams. I know how she felt, and I knew she'd come around, but I didn't want to attract unwanted attention on such a quiet night. She struggled harder, ineffectively. Poor girl. I eased the pressure, and she broke free.

"I'm sick, I'm sick…" her voice was raspy, and this time I knew she was literally sick. I let her go and she sprung up, running towards the bathroom as I followed her closely. I found her sunk down to her knees, heaving violently into the toilet. Her stomach, empty save for a lot of water, alcohol, and a whole lot of anger, contracted painfully. I gathered her long hair and held it back, my other hand rubbing her back up and down, alternating with wide circular motions. It lasted for about ten minutes, on and off. I didn't let go of her till she was finished and she went limp, her back resting against my chest. We remained like that for another five minutes, following which I helped her clean up, giving her privacy when she needed it.

When she finally stumbled out of the bathroom, I was waiting for her. I led her to her bed, and guided her to lie down. I'm glad she got that junk out, both physical and emotional. She was weak and covered in a thin film of cold sweat, but I knew she would get better. From now on, I swore, it would get better. This has got to be rock bottom. Deb's breathing evened out gradually, and she fell into a light doze.

I covered her with a blanket, and stepped outside the house for fresh air and a few minutes of reflection. Was it possible that the destructive cycle that began with my mother's horrible death could be broken? I started out as a so-called vigilante, but Harry and I both had known that was a mere cover, a convenient excuse. One by one, I had lost everybody I cared about. I had somehow caused their death or disappearance, all of them. Now it was down to the one person who knew me right from childhood. I don't even know if the world can exist without her. It didn't make sense – a world in which Debra Morgan no longer lived. An alien, unnatural world. The very thought gave me chills. And she was right - as long as I continued my lifestyle, bad shit was going to find me and those close to me. There was no joy in killing, for sure. The only purpose it served was to fill up a gaping emptiness within me. But even that emptiness was nothing compared to the past few months. Were we too far gone? Or could our lives be repaired, our relationship stitched back together? Could I somehow snatch Deb's and my souls back from whatever hell they had got lost in?

I had to get her body back to normal first, I thought. She was almost skeletal. Luckily, Evelyn had tried to convince her to stock up her kitchen recently, and although it was mostly bare, I managed to find some fresh bread and cheese. I decided to make her childhood favourite, a simple grilled cheese sandwich, and heated up some tomato soup. It would be easy on her weakened stomach. I made some for myself too – I'd been starving since the past couple of hours but had been too tense to notice.

Deb had been sleeping for half an hour now. She looked tired and peaceful, but it was time to wake her up for now. "Deb", I called out, shaking her gently. "Deb, wake up… Deb?"

She stirred but did not open her eyes. "Huh?"

"Deb you need to eat something. Wake up now, then you can go back to sleep, ok?"

Her eyelashes parted and she gazed at me sleepily. "What's happening? How come…." She slurred, then suddenly seemed to remember. "Oh, ok…" She propped herself up on her elbows, then sat up completely, blinking at me, her eyes swimming in and out of focus.

"Got your favourite."

"Beer?"

"No, your _other_ favourite," I said rolling my eyes, and handed her the plate. "Get out of here, we're sitting at the table."

"Oh man, I can't remember the last time I had this," she said, delighted as she hungrily munched it down, still walking towards the dining table. "Thanks, Dex." she said and she sat down, her mouth full.

Our eyes met, and we smiled at each other, filling up on the food. It felt good, just sitting down and sharing a meal together. So normal, so mundane. Nobody looking at us right now would ever guess what we'd been through. When we were done, I scooped up our plates and deposited them into the sink. Deb followed me into the kitchen, and we both stood at opposite ends, facing each other. She spoke quietly, arms crossed. "I'm sorry, Dex. Sorry I went to that place. I don't know what comes over me sometimes. I just wanted to forget."

"You don't have to forget, Deb." I knew she wasn't just talking about the last few days. "That's not how it works. We have to remember- that's the only way to move on. We've both done terribly wrong things, hurt people who didn't deserve it. But we also did a lot of good. Especially you. The world is a better place because you're in it. And you're never alone. For better or worse, you're stuck with me."

"There's nothing I want more than be stuck with you, dumbass." She smirked. "But we just can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending not to bother about what you do. I can't pretend that I hate you either. I'm neither here nor there. You're _always_ in my mind. If anybody threatens you again, I don't know that I won't kill for you again. But I don't want to… I don't want to! So tell me, what do I do? Where do we go from here, Dexter? " She buried her face in her hands.

I walked over to her, uncovered her face, and took her hands in mine. "I want you safe," I told her. It was simple and honest. "I want to show you that we can go back. We can go back from the things we've done. You can be strong again. I can be better than this. But I can't do this alone. I need your help. We're in this mess together, so let's get out of it together. I need to be with you, Deb" I increased the pressure of my grip, desperately. "Will you come with me? I want my family around me, to remind me constantly of what's important."

"Yeah, Dex… I'll come with you." Her eyes were wet.

"Thank you," I breathed, and I let her go, aware that I had started to hurt her. She just said yes. Just like that. She didn't even ask where I was asking her to accompany me to. I led her back to her room.

"Ok, where do you keep your suitcases?" I asked, rummaging through her closet.

"They're in the top shelf. What's going on, Dexter? Where are we going?" she asked, as I took out her clothes and piled them onto the bed.

"Just to my apartment, for now. " I pushed a large bag towards her. "Here, use this one. Pick the clothes you want to take, go look around for anything else that you might need. Don't worry, we can come back for more later. Besides it's probably better to leave some stuff here, just in case. Here's a smaller bag – perfect. I'm going to prepare a getaway bag for you. Complete with fake passports, credit cards and extra cash. I have one for myself and Harrison, and yours will have to match ours."

"Are we running away? Is that really necessary, Dex? Is there something going on that you're not telling me?" she asked, looking concerned.

"No, this is plan B. Just in case something goes wrong. Another LaGuerta-like situation. I'm not willing to lose you, or leave you behind, or ask you to make any more sacrifices for me. If anything threatens us again, we'll get away. You, me, Harrison. Miami is our home, but if necessary, we're going to start over in another place. And no, I'm not hiding anything from you. Complete honesty from now on. But that works both ways, ok?"

"Then tell me, _honestly_… why are we doing this now? Why am I going to your place?"

"I need to keep an eye on you." I told her. "Both eyes, in fact. You seem fine right now, Deb, but I just can't risk this kind of thing happening again. It's like how I'd moved in here for a while, last year", I said, alluding to her attempt to rehab me.

"So… this is some sort of intervention?" she smiled dryly. "I'm what… high-risk? A loose cannon?"

"Something like that" I said, zipping up the bag she'd packed. "Until I'm convinced that you're completely out of your PTSD and competent to run your own life, you're going to stay with me, and keep me informed at all times. Is that clear?"

Deb coloured visibly at the thought of giving me control over her life. I wonder if she can trust me enough. Well, she would have to. I should have done this long ago, right after the LaGuerta shooting. But then she was way too traumatized and disgusted with the choices she'd made because of me. Now, with the discovery of Dr. Vogel's role in shaping my childhood, maybe Deb would understand that in a way, it wasn't my fault. At least not completely. Maybe we can still have a normal life together. I know things can never go back to the way they were. But at least this was honest. And she'd laid bare her own feelings too. I have to keep that in mind and be sensitive towards her. I'm still not sure how I'm supposed to feel, but for now, all I know is I want her to be happy. I'm going to be there for her, whenever she needs me, however she needs me. I'll let her decide.

We reached my apartment, and I instructed Deb to stay in the car until Jamie left. She had already put Harrison to bed, and was outside, reading.

"Hi! Sorry I'm late – I was at Deb's." I announced truthfully.

"Oh hey, no problem, Dexter. Harrison was a complete angel today. Hope she's doing ok." My good-natured nanny chimed.

"Thank you so much." I said, as she picked up her purse and turned to leave. "I'll see you next week." It was Friday, and I'm planning to spend time at home for a change.

After I made sure she was gone, I went back to the car and helped Deb carry her bags inside. "Welcome, again." I chuckled. Deb had crashed at my place countless times. It had always been her refuge when she was in trouble.

"Whoa, it's been so long since I've seen Harrison. He's grown up so fast!" she murmured, peering in through his open door.

"Yes he has. He's missed his aunt Deb." I said, and kissed the boy lightly on the forehead. He remained asleep, and I pulled his door shut.

"So have I," I gazed at her thickly, as she lowered her eyes. "I'm glad you're back."

"Me too," she agreed. A few seconds later she spoke again. "Mind if I take a quick shower? I'm absolutely reeking."

"Go ahead," I said, "I'll set up the extra mattress."

She came out fifteen minutes later, her hair freshly shampooed and flowing over her still damp shoulders. She was still wrapped in a fluffy white towel, and I realized she hadn't unpacked first. She stood silently before me, an indecipherable expression in her eyes. I was busy spreading a new sheet over the bed when I suddenly looked up and noticed her.

"Oh," I was taken aback at the sight. "Well... lucky you left a few things here last time you stayed over. Here, put these on." I handed her a plain old blue t-shirt and pajama shorts and left the room to let her change.

**Debra**

Eight months later, I'm back where it all started. My thoughts went back to the night I found everything – the blood slides, the knives, the prosthetic hand, since our confrontation. I haven't been here since before the LaGuerta shooting, and I shivered a little at the thought. I'm not sure how I felt about staying here for the next week or so. Dexter didn't exactly leave me a choice, though. If I'd refused, he would have convinced me anyway, or brought me here by force. It seemed best to try and make peace with the fact. He was right about one thing, though. Unless I faced my demons head-on, there was no way I was going to pull through. I didn't trust myself these days. Maybe I did need a chaperone. Maybe he did too, if he meant what he said about going back from the things we've done. In my heart, I chose to trust that it would work out.

I finished changing and found Dexter outside the house, on the patio, staring out into the night.

Hearing me arrive, he turned, with a quick raise of eyebrows and a tentative smile in greeting. "Hey, Deb."

"Hey," I said quietly as I joined him.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes", I answered simply. We stood together, gazing out in the same general direction. A gentle, balmy breeze rustled the nearby trees, and blew my hair about my face. The sky was clear, and a few more stars than usual were visible over the city.

"It's so quiet," he murmured. And it was. It was as if there was nobody in the world at that moment except for the two of us. I glanced at where our hands were resting next to each other's on the rail of the patio, separated by millimeters. I felt so close to Dexter right now, closer than we've been in nearly a year, and I wondered if it would be wholly inappropriate to reach out and cover his hand with mine. I held myself in check, not wanting to disturb the delicate balance of the moment. That's when he did it, as if reading my mind. Just a slight overlap of fingers, but it was enough to speed up my heartbeat. I swallowed and savoured the warmth emanating from our contact for a few silent minutes.

I could feel his eyes upon me and I finally dared to look up and directly at him. I expected to feel intimidated or awkward but to my surprise, I felt comforted. Accepted. His fingers closed completely around mine and he broke the silence. "I think we should go to bed now. You look exhausted, and I feel the same way."

"Sure," I nodded, as he released my hand. We went back into the house.

"So how does this work?" I looked around the living room, "Should I just take the couch? It's big enough I guess."

"Couch? You're not sleeping on the couch. You could be here for a while, and I'm pretty sure that spring isn't too comfortable night after night. Go ahead, take my bed."

"So… you're sleeping out here? Or in Harrison's room?" I asked, confused.

"Come inside," he said, and I followed him into his room. "You take my bed, like I said, and I'll sleep on this extra mattress on the floor." Saying so, he pushed the mattress so that it occupied the part of the floor between the main bed and the room door. "In addition to your comfort, your highness, this arrangement is to make sure you don't sneak out without waking me up. It's you and not Harrison who needs a babysitter right now."

"That's silly, Dex." I laughed. "Why would I sneak out? I'm not going to run away! You don't need to do this. And I can take the mattress; it's your house and your bed, anyway."

"Nice try."

"Oh, all _right_, if you insist." I fluffed up an extra pillow and threw it at him. I got under the covers and almost groaned in relief. "So comfortable, Dex! What material is this? Ok, I'm not going to argue, this is my bed from now onwards."

"Egyptian cotton." He deadpanned. "Glad I could convince you. I'll sleep better just knowing your current location isn't some seedy motel room. Goodnight Debra. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Goodnight." I mumbled, yawning. I was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow.

I woke up with a start after, I think, a couple of hours, sweating and trembling. I sat up suddenly on the bed, the abrupt motion waking Dexter up along with myself.

"Deb…? What the…" His half-asleep voice came to me from below, just a couple of meters away, but it sounded muted to me, like I was underwater.

"N-nothing," I gasped, running my fingers through my hair, trying to catch my breath, my ears still ringing. It was the same dream again. In in, I was infected by a progressive sickness. It started with a fever, then chills, then it made me throw up, then the room started spinning. With every new symptom, I felt like there was something forcing itself into my body, my mind. I always woke up at this point, convinced that if I went back to sleep, I would be possessed. Literally possessed, by evil spirits or demons or something. Always the same, irrational fear. It had kept me up for nights at a time, and no amount of medication would help me sleep through it. I couldn't, _shouldn't_ go back to sleep.

"Are you sure?" Dexter asked me again, climbing on to the bed beside me. "You look really shaken up, Deb. Was it a nightmare?" He touched my shoulder, "Hey, you can tell me. What is it, huh?"

"It's ok… it's ok… it wasn't real." I panted, "But it… just _feels_ so real. I don't want it to continue. Every time…"

"Come here." He pulled me into his arms, and I clung on, breathing unevenly. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Just know you're safe now, ok? Wait…" he paused. "It wasn't… me, was it?" I drew back and looked at his face in the darkness. He looked truly concerned, and afraid that he was the one terrifying me in the night. "No Dex. No, it wasn't you. It was just...a feeling… a disease, something taking over. Very vague. Something tells me that if I fall asleep again, it will get me, and then I won't ever wake up again, at least, not as myself. Like some kind of monster, that will _change_ me into itself." His expression was pained, like he blamed himself for it, but he was doing his best to be supportive. "Do you want me to… sleep somewhere else?" he questioned, still gripping both my arms just above my elbows.

"No, no… that won't necessarily help. I've been having this dream for months – it doesn't happen every night. But when it does, it's out of the blue, I'm never prepared for it, and it scares the hell out of me. I know it's silly, really dumb. I mean , who believes in demons anyway?" I laughed silently. "But I'm always alone, when I wake up. I stay up for an hour at least, trying to distract myself, change the subject in my mind. Most of the time I just give up the thought of sleeping."

"But you're not alone now." Dexter said gently. "Just lie down again and close your eyes. I'll stay up and keep watch for a while. If I see you becoming restless, I'll wake you up again. Sound ok to you?"

"I guess… that would be better. Thanks… thanks so much," I said tiredly. "I really want to sleep through the night for once." I lay down again, on my side, so that I could look at him sitting beside me. He pulled his pillow up beside mine and got into bed next to me, his head propped up slightly on his arm, ready to keep vigil over me. Once again, I felt so safe, like I did on the floor of his room back when I was a kid. I smiled slightly as I closed my eyes, leaning towards him and drawing my knees forward and up into a semi-fetal position. I felt his arm go around me and rest lightly on my side, just over my ribs. I was half-aware of the potential awkwardness of us sharing a bed, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I was too comfortable in my cocoon of warmth and safety. The last thing I felt was a very slight caress of his fingers moving over my head, and then all was quiet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dexter**

When I woke up, her face was the first thing I saw. We had fallen asleep together, and for some reason it didn't feel a bit awkward waking up next to her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her face looked calm, angelic. There was almost no hint of the horror she had been through lately, except for the faint but persistent dark circles under her eyes and her slightly chapped lips. The morning sun was streaming in through the open window, and it was what had woken me up. I got up quietly and pulled the curtain shut, allowing Deb to sleep some more.

I went over to check on Harrison. He was already awake and rubbing his eyes. "Good morning, buddy." I said brightly. "Good morning Daddy!" he chirped, excited to begin the day. "Daddy, Stan's mom is taking him and his sisters to the aquarium today, and she said I could come along if I wanted. They have only one extra space in the car, and since I'm his best friend I get to go." He grinned.

"Really? I thought this was our day, didn't you say you wanted to fly kites? The weather is so nice." I said, amused. My son was a social animal alright.

"It's only open until lunch, we can fly kites after that. Pleeeease, daddy? I really want to see the mantees. Do they really look like cows? And Stan said there's even a polar bear! "

"I think they do, yes. Ok Harrison, but only if you promise to come home straightaway afterwards. No whining, ok? Guess what, your aunt Deb will be with us. You miss her, right?"

"Aunty Deb! She's coming here?" he squealed. He didn't know she was already sleeping under our roof, but I didn't want him to see her so tired and not herself.

"Yup! Alright then, go and brush your teeth, get ready. I'll call Mrs. Hewitt. And get some pancakes ready for us."

"Yay! Thanks daddy!" my son rushed off enthusiastically. He had such a lot to look forward to, every day. He deserved a happy and wholesome childhood, and I need to make sure I can give it to him.

We had breakfast together, and I was still sipping my coffee when I heard a car honk outside. "There's your ride, son. Go get the door, I'll be right there." I greeted his friend's mother, a pleasant redhead in her mid-thirties with moody twin girls and a boisterous son. Harrison had been on a few play dates with Stan, and I was grateful that Mrs. Hewitt had so much patience with kids his age, and that she was rather fond of my boy. She always said her kids were better behaved with him around. He was sunny and optimistic, making friends at a rate that I'd never expected. And he genuinely enjoyed the company of other children, not having to pretend to get along as I did- a hope of a happy life ahead. She would drop him home at around 1 o'clock, she said. We chatted for a few minutes, then after making Harrison promise to be a good boy and obey her, and not run off, I waved them goodbye.

I smiled to myself as I shut the door, and was picking up my lukewarm coffee to reheat it when I heard my bedroom door creak open. A sleepy-looking Debra emerged, her hair tousled and eyes blinking from the light in the bright dining room.

"Morning, Deb. Look who crawled out early."

"Early? It's 10 o'clock, asshole." She mumbled, stumbling onto the chair opposite me.

"For you, that's like dawn, on a Saturday. Obviously you're much better today – the swearing is back." I sniggered.

"Ok, smartass, can I get some coffee, _please_? Ohhhh, my head hurts like a motherfucker." She groaned, rubbing her temple vigorously, then slumped forward till her forehead rested on the table.

"I'll put on a fresh cup, mine's gone cold here." I said patiently. I passed her on my way to the coffee machine, and as I walked past her, I brushed my hand along her resting head. Surprised, she turned towards me, one cheek still on the table, eyes following me warily as I measured out the water. Her whisper was a barely audible "_Thank you_." And suddenly she smiled at me, a strange, yet familiar smile. It told me that she was embarrassed, she was grateful, that she had forgiven me and was asking for my friendship, for a new beginning. That she was only swearing at me in jest, because it made her feel normal and safe. Such a conflicting mix of emotions, only my Deb could express. There was a wonderful span of ten minutes in which all that could be heard was the sound of pancakes sizzling on the griddle, the steady bubbling from the coffee maker and the occasional loud call of a distant seagull.

"You miss these?" I asked her as she dug into the pile of pancakes I set on the table. "Like hell." She agreed. "I could never get them so round and airy. More like flat blobs of batter."

"Don't forget burnt." I chuckled. "I must say, other than my deadly hobby I'm quite the ideal family man, don't you think?"

"Dexter," she stuttered, growing conscious. "Stop that, please. Not today, ok?"

"Deb…" I began, then stopped myself. I was going to tell her that there was no point avoiding the topic, but she wasn't ready yet. It was time we stopped going around in circles and decided what to do with ourselves. As far as I knew, she probably had a million questions in her head. We had never gotten the chance to discuss Brian, Doakes, LaGuerta, El Sapo, Rita, and Hannah. I didn't know if she was happy in her new job, or just getting by. I was no longer sure about her feelings for me. One day she hated me and blamed me for all her sorrows, another day she clung to me like I was the only one keeping her afloat. If we were going to start afresh, we had to face our issues and talk about them. The meticulous planner in me believed this. The wilder part of me wanted to throw caution to the winds and just go with the flow. Maybe both sides of me won out as I confronted her.

"Deb, listen. I know it's hard for you, but we need to take a step back and look at what's going on. I'm here right now, I'm here to look out for you, and you know I'll always be. But tell me, what happens when you go back home? What happens when you take up risky cases again, and get mixed up with your "friends" again? Is the life of a PI what you want, does it make you happy? What do you do after going back home, how do you deal with your thoughts, all these secrets? I know you can't talk to anyone but me about the things that are bothering you. They trouble you day and night – you suffer, I can see it, even when you fool everyone else you can't fool me. You're alone with your darkness, and I know how that feels. The compulsion to live on the edge, that temporary thrill you get, only to be replaced by hollowness. How are you going to get back to being yourself, Deb? Harry would never have wanted you like this. You need to come back to who you were, because that Deb was happy. Whiny as hell, but I wouldn't change her for anything."

"You tell me!" she retorted. "How have you done it all these years? Living a double life, lying to everyone you care about? I left Miami Metro because I couldn't face all those people. Angel still trusts me with his life even though I killed his ex-wife. Quinn wanted nothing more than to make me happy. There's nothing I want more than to be back out there. I loved my job. I loved keeping people safe. It made me feel... I don't know… NOT worthless! And I really loved you, Dexter. I knew there was someone there who would always have my back no matter what. Now, I don't know how to go back into that police station knowing I'm sheltering a killer. Not to mention myself. What scares me most is, will this ever end? What if I come back, and you do keep doing your thing, and someone close to me finds out again? What if Quinn finds out? Masuka? What should I do? Kill them? Turn myself in? Rat you out? Dexter have you ever thought of how Harrison would feel if he finds out one day what his dad and aunt are? Do you know how…." She choked. "Do you know how _I_ feel about myself? I can barely look at my own face in the mirror. I've betrayed myself, Dad, all my friends, and I even betrayed you, ironically."

"I would change everything if I could, Deb." I said sadly. "You know, back when we were teenagers, I almost told you everything. But I thought you wouldn't understand – I thought my urges would scare you off, and I didn't want to lose you. I was maintaining an illusion for the world, and you were part of it. I thought I was protecting you. I always wanted to keep you safe, Deb."

"I wish you'd tried, I wish you'd let me in" she said, tears flowing down her cheeks now. "Dexter, I would have stood by you. You're such a wonderful person to begin with, I refuse to believe there was no option for you, no matter what the "experts" said. We would have worked through it together. Because you've never intentionally hurt me in your life. You must have had a million chances, but instead you always looked out for me. I know you would have conquered your darkness, just for my sake. You gave up Hannah to protect me, and I know how much you wanted a life with her. _I know you killed Brian to protect me!_ Right till the very end, you were ready to die for me, and that's why I chose you over LaGuerta. That's why I would do it again, in a heartbeat, no matter…. _how wrong!_ I no longer know what's right and wrong, how can I be a police officer? I'll damn myself to hell, just for you. I would damn a dozen other people too, that's the person I've become, and I have to live with that."

"Deb!" I grabbed her and enveloped her in a fierce hug, shaking with the force of emotions that had been suppressed over the years. We were bound to each other in tragedy, but that wasn't the worst of it. I cried hard, for all our lost chances, all our misguided decisions, all our betrayal. We could have been bound by something far more pure, if only I'd not held back that day long ago. We would have saved each other; instead we had destroyed one another. I would rather have been a slave to her than to my dark passenger.

"Listen to me, you listen to me now!" I insisted, clutching her shoulders. "It's still not too late, we're going to fix this. You're clearly cut out to be an amazing detective. You have the kind of heart and compassion that's wasted on a private investigator job. Deb I've never seen a more dedicated person than you. I know you don't care about the money. You have to come back. You _need _to come back, Deb! It's your chance to make amends for Maria – help her department do what it's meant to do. You can't go back and change what's happened but you are in control of what's ahead. Trust me, a lot more innocent people out there will be alive and safe if only you come back. You can save them, Deb. And you're the only one who can save me. I'm done being a murderer, I don't want my brand of justice anymore. I will do my job as a forensics expert, and use my vetting skills to help you and the other detectives. We can nail people like Trinity, like Jordan Chase, and Travis Marshal – by the book, like you've always wanted. I'm always there to collect unofficial evidence, and tip off the police anonymously, so they don't get away. And even if they do, Deb, we'll work together, not against each other. And nobody can beat us when we're together. We're unstoppable. Aren't we?" I brushed her cheek fondly with the back of my hand, letting my fingers trail along her jawline. She shuddered and took in a deep breath, eyes almost closed. It was incredible how beautiful she looked, and I fought for control not to kiss her right then. _Where did that urge come from?_

Moments passed, and she slowly opened her eyes, straining to focus on mine because we were that close to each other. She moved back, just a little, and I remembered myself, dropping my hand from her face.

"Suppose I said yes." She said slowly, uncertainly. "Suppose I believed you. Suppose we work together again and everything's all peachy. I'd still know. Every time someone decides to investigate an old case for whatever reason, I'll know it was you. I'll be forced to mess with the evidence, and lie to everyone. I still don't know where that DVD is, the once LaGuerta showed me, footage of me at that gas station the night of Travis Marshal's death. She caught me completely off-guard with that. Look where that got us. It could be anywhere, and sooner or later it's bound to turn up. What about other stuff? Like that photo of you at the wedding that I stole. I managed that one time, but even I don't really know what to look out for. It was sheer dumb luck. You may think you're a pro at this Dexter, but the fact is you make mistakes too. And it's only a matter of time before they catch up with you. With us. All of us. How many kills, Dex? Hundreds? I'll be complicit in each and every one of them. Doesn't exactly leave me free to catch criminals now, does it?"

I turned away angrily and pounded my fist into the table. "Ok! I get it. I'm dragging you down with me, no matter what I say, or how hard I try. What do you want me to do?" She backed away a little, apparently startled. "Do you want me to turn myself in? Because I can do that. That will let you off the hook. And trust me you don't even have to feel guilty about it. I'm not afraid of death, Deb. I was going to do it long ago. The only thing that stopped me was _you! _You, and all your talk about me always being there for you to hold on to, and how you wouldn't be able to manage without me. It got into my head and stayed there. But if you want me to surrender, just say it. Say the words, Debra. Can you? If that's what it's going to take, go ahead, say it! Say the words!" I collapsed onto a chair, shaking. My voice dropped. "Let's just get this over with."

"That's enough, Dexter." she said sternly. I looked up, breathing hard, confused. "That's not even remotely what I'm suggesting."

"Then _what_ _are_ you suggesting?"

"That you confess."

"Isn't that… what I just said?"

"No, I meant, to me. You confess to me. Tell me everything."

"You already know everything."

"Every kill. Every single one. Complete with the reason you made your decision." she continued, sticking out her chin slightly.

"_What?_" I whispered in disbelief. "You… want to know all that? Deb do you have any idea what you're saying? It's bad enough I have to live with it all, now you want in on it?"

"It's the only way. We sit down, we talk about them all. Case by case. You rack your brains, tell me everything that you remember. You said your memory is photographic, right?"

"More or less. Unfortunately." I added.

"Fortunately," she disagreed. "We're going to use this to our advantage. I know what questions to ask. You only answer me. Don't hide anything. Not a damn thing, you get that? No matter how…." She stopped, swiping her hand across her now sweating forehead. "No matter how horrifying, you need to let me know. So that we can figure out if anything's gone amiss. If there's even the slightest chance of something showing up randomly. I remember staying up for nights at a time, scouring evidence back when I was a rookie in homicide. Hell, I even did it when I was in vice. I'm pretty sure I can do it again. We can find it before anyone else does, and quietly get rid of it. Nobody gets hurt."

I stared at her, amazed. At that moment I was completely in awe of her. And terrified at the same time. This was the last thing I wanted for her.

"I can't let you do that! Deb, this is too dangerous, digging up the past. What about witnesses?"

"Witnesses would have showed up by now, don't you think? Such a high profile case, the Bay Harbour Butcher." I winced at the unwelcome title.

"But still. I can't... I can't let you back into that world. How on earth is that supposed to make you better?"

"I'll be better once I stop feeling like there are a thousand knives hanging over me by a thread. It's the not knowing that I can't stand, Dex. If there's another shitstorm waiting for us, I would rather be aware of it. That's the mistake we… no... YOU made last time. You underestimated LaGuerta. You might have known she would do anything for Doakes, just like I would for you."

"That's incredibly sweet, and also very stupid. We never know what might happen, Deb. I doubt there will ever be a day when we can declare all threats neutralized. That's why I'm preparing for the possibility that we would need to up and disappear." I got up and began to pace around the room.

"But we can reduce the probability, right?" she followed me, persistent. "Come on, don't tell me it wouldn't make you feel better. Is leaving Miami the most attractive option? If anything it will look even more suspicious. Harrison would forever be questioning what the fuck happened to his life… where's his mother? Why are we running? Is Daddy a bad man? He would probably never see Astor and Cody again. And those two – oh God – they've already suffered the biggest imaginable loss, and running away with their baby brother? Dexter, can't you at least do this for the children?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. This is madness." I said despondently.

"Ok, here's what I'm offering. You take me up on this, come clean, and we'll try our best to make sure the past stays in the past. Every bit of it. A clean break. Harrison can have a future, and I'll be peaceful enough to stop acting up. Maybe… _maybe_… one day we can forget, and look back at our past, and only see the good parts. But you say no, and I won't rejoin MMPD. I simply can't look at you every day knowing that I'll lose you again. I'll stay with Elway's job and wherever that takes me. We'll stay in touch, but I can't promise that."

"Deb that's not fair. That's blackmail."

"Maybe. But you won't listen any other way. Just think about it."

"Yeah, I'll think about it." I muttered. "Damn it, why do I even try to talk sense into you?"

"I have no idea."

There was a brief lull, broken by the sound of a car honking.

"That's Harrison, he's back." I said quietly. "I told him you were coming over. You might want to make your face a bit more presentable."

"Fuck you."

"For the children, Deb," I said pointedly.

"Ok, ok. I'm going." she went back into the bathroom, and I quickly splashed some cool water on my heated face before I went to get the door.

"Hi Daddy, I had soooo much fun!" my little boy bounded into the room, jumped up and down and ended up hugging me around the knees.

"Hey, that's awesome, champ! Give me a high five!" I smiled as his small palm slapped mine. "Did you behave yourself?" "Uh-huh" he nodded vigorously.

"Never been better, Dexter!" called Mrs. Hewitt from the doorway, her kids in tow. "You should join us next weekend, the twins will be at ballet practice so we'll have plenty of room."

"Thanks, I'm very tempted. Will try to make it. Maybe we can take my car." I said cheerfully (I hoped).

After Stan's family left, I ushered Harrison in to wash his hands and get ready to have lunch. He was back in a jiffy, and Deb walked out at the same time, looking fresh as a daisy. Her face lit up when Harrison called out, "Deb! Aunt Deb, you're here!" and rushed to embrace her. She bent down to his eye level and hugged him back warmly. "How've you been, my darling? Aunty missed you. She's so sorry she's been away for so long."

"I'm all grown up. You haven't seen me for _centuries_!"

"New word huh, smarty pants? Good job. You're going to be smarter than me one day." She giggled and I couldn't help smiling at the spectacle before me. Deb trying to talk to a kid.

"Now you have to fly kites with me all afternoon." Harrison scowled. "No police work and no fighting with Daddy. Promise me you'll never go away again."

"I promise," Deb said gently as she hugged him again and placed her chin over his shoulder, trying to hide her eyes that were shining with tears. "I promise," she whispered again. Then she looked up and our eyes locked for a brief and meaningful moment.

I cleared my throat. "Ok, who's ready for some lunch? Chicken nuggets today, since you've been good."

"Yes!" Harrison pumped his fist. "He never lets me have nuggets, Aunt Deb." He complained to her. "I have to beg and beg. But because you're here Daddy will let me have anything. Because you make him happy. Right Daddy? You said…"

"That's enough Harrison, don't push your luck," I said, a little embarrassed. Kids really pay attention even if you're rambling, I noted. "Come on, to the table now!"

Deb stood up as she released him. "I'll get the plates ready."

"You sit down with him. Spend some time together." I said, "I'll manage. It's usually just the two of us anyway." My voice sounded lonely, even to myself. Why did she have to do this to me? Now I had to risk hurting her further with those awful confessions, or alienating her. I'm sure I already knew what choice I would make.

The rest of the day was as ideal as I could have hoped for. As we prepared to get some sleep, however, I caught Deb repacking some of her clothes into her suitcase. I slunk into the bedroom and shut the door.

"Deb, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she said guiltily.

"You're leaving? After the day we had? After you promised Harrison…"

"I'm sorry, Dexter. I think as long as I'm here we're going to keep arguing about the same thing over and over. I think it's best if I leave tomorrow, and let you think about it. You can call me when you've made up your mind."

"But…"

"No, Dex. Please. Don't try to influence me. Let me leave before I become weak again."

"Deb, please stay. Stay with me, with us. We need you." I slid next to her, sat down and put an arm around her shoulder. I knew I was playing my cards unfairly but I couldn't help it. She shook her head stubbornly and resolutely stared at the second hand on the clock opposite us. Finally I sighed, "Ok, I'll do it."

"You… will? That was sudden." She turned my way, surprised and a little suspicious.

"Quit while you're ahead, ok?" I said, annoyed. "You little whiny…." I smacked her lightly on the head. "But you don't do anything stupid based on something I've told you, ok? You'll wait till we've made a decision together, and I've made sure it won't expose you in any way. And we don't start until you're officially back and settled in at the station. Say yes and we've got a deal."

"Deal," she agreed happily.

"And…"

"And?"

"You call Angel tomorrow, talk to him about your decision to return. Turn in your notice to Elway. And stay with us for a week before you head back into police work. Forget the rest - I want my best friend back first. You've no idea how much I've missed you."

"Neither have you…" she let her head drop sideways to rest on my shoulder.

For the first time in forever, I slept without waking up during the night, all the way till morning came.

**Debra**

The next day things were clearer in my mind. Dexter had agreed to my plan to revisit all of his victims and make sure nothing incriminating was left behind. I couldn't explain why I needed to do this. He was right – it was in no way a guarantee that we were above suspicion. But it would make me feel better if I knew we hadn't left out anything obvious. Would it take a toll on me? Sure it would. But I think I can handle just about anything now. Also, I admitted to myself, it was the need to convince myself that all (or most) or those people did deserve it, making Dexter not such a bad person after all. If I could stop seeing them as his victims and more of villains in their own right, I would maybe feel better about my own actions. Not that I would ever, EVER be able to justify shooting my captain, but at least I would feel like my deadly sacrifice helped society in some way, by saving its vigilante. "Fool," I muttered to myself. "As usual, trying to fool yourself."

"What's that?" Dexter mumbled sleepily from the floor.

I jumped up in a bit of a shock. "You're still here?"

""Course I'm still here. Where would I go?"

"Oh, I thought you were up and about."

"Whom were you calling a fool?"

I remained silent.

"Never mind."

I'm glad he let it drop. I think we'd both had enough drama for the week.

"I really have to pee," I headed to the bathroom.

"Open the curtains as you go, will you? Thanks." He lay back down, looking relaxed. I complied with his request, letting in another beautiful day.

Sunday passed without event, and the next day I decided that I owed Elway an in-person explanation why I was quitting.

"You do realize why you're called a public _servant_, don't you?" Elway said, disapprovingly. "That's literally the kind of pay you'll be getting. Besides, you can't rejoin as Lieutenant, or even Sergeant. You'll have to start from scratch again."

"Well, I still have my detective shield, Batista always said he'll keep it for me until I return. I earned that, not so sure about the Lieutenant position." I added. "It's what I need to do, Jake. It's what I was meant to do. I tried something else, but this just isn't working. I'm sorry, I know this is unfair to you. But it would be even worse if I continued doing something halfheartedly."

"Damn right it's unfair. You're my A-team, Deb. I've gotten used to your craziness and efficiency, a combination some would call eccentricity. Also, you know how much I like you. As a person." As a woman, he meant. I wasn't oblivious to his feelings for me.

I nodded carefully. "Yes, I know. Jake you know I'll always be really grateful to you, for giving me a job when I needed one, and for putting up with all my shit. But I'm sure you'll find someone else, even better suited for the job. Better behaved too." I smiled. "And we'll always be friends, won't we?"

"I'll take friendship, I suppose." He attempted a smile. I felt so bad for him, he was a decent guy, and in another life or maybe even a couple of years ago, he could have been more than a friend. He made me laugh and trusted in me. But my life at present was too complicated to let in somebody new. Which was a goddamn shame, but it couldn't be helped.

So that went fine. Next step – apply for my old job. I called Batista and asked if we could meet for lunch, or a cup of coffee if he was too busy.

He greeted me with a bear hug and we ordered pork sandwiches. I had missed the bustling Cuban food stall which had become us cops' hangout. I didn't even have to explain myself much - when I asked if I could possibly rejoin, he beamed, "You know you're always welcome here, _chiquita_," pinching my cheek gently. "I'll get the paperwork started." I loved big old Angel Batista. Sometimes I felt like he was more my elder brother than Dexter ever was. I didn't deserve so much affection. I swore to myself that whatever I did, I would never hurt this man again. I hugged him and promised to report to duty from next Monday, after "tying up loose ends", as I put it.

That evening Dexter was late. As I sat with Harrison watching cartoons, my anxiety mounting, I questioned the wisdom of what I had decided. I wouldn't be surprised if this was a clever ruse by my foster brother, just to get me to commit to rejoining. I hoped he wasn't back to his usual pastime. I would beat him to a pulp if he had any such intentions.

"Where were you?" I asked testily as he walked in, a good two hours after I knew the workday was over. Seeing an honest cop in Batista again had shaken my perspective.

"I had some overdue reports, and then I had a flat and had to go get it fixed."

"Oh, a flat. How reassuring. Nobody will ever see through that. Where were you really?"

"Deb, I've got the work receipt from the shop if you don't believe me. And you're welcome to check the cctv footage next week when you have access again." He looked a little irritated but mostly amused. "You're really going to have to start trusting me again, or this plan of yours isn't going to work."

"Plan of _ours_." I said sulkily. He smirked and walked past me towards his room to change. "I'm sorry!" I called after him. _Damn it!_ I'm lucky he's so patient by nature. He flashed a thumbs-up towards me without turning. I smiled and knew that we were okay. It wasn't my fault really, and he knew it. Our unspoken peace prevailed through the week, and Dexter made extra efforts to keep me posted on his whereabouts. I began to work on regaining some discipline before rejoining the force. I exercised, kept up with the news, began to eat healthy again and took Harrison to the park. It was a relief to interact with other normal adults, even a wave or a nod. I hadn't touched cigarettes or alcohol since the night Dexter found me, and I felt just fine.

By the time the weekend rolled by again, I was feeling mentally and physically refreshed. I was more aware of my surroundings, my reflexes grew sharp again and I found the strength to face my old colleagues. It was time. On Sunday morning Dexter helped me pack, brought me back to my beach house and helped straighten up the place.

"You're going to be great, Deb." He assured me when he saw me fidgeting. "Everyone's excited to have you back. They've cleared out a cubicle for you and everything. It even has a name plate that says 'world's best detective'," he joked.

"Hardly," I blushed in spite of myself. "Thanks for making this happen."

"Anytime," he said. "Now remember what we talked about. Get settled first, get comfortable, start working on new cases, and by and by we'll have our talks. No hurry, no sudden moves."

"I'll try to focus. I'll do my best."

"Good," he said, as I walked outside with him. We stood outside the French windows, where I had made my painful admission to him about my feelings. It seemed so long ago. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yup. Bye Dex." I grinned.

He turned to leave, then stopped, walked back to me, and gave me a swift kiss on my cheek. "For good luck," he smiled, squeezing my hand gently, and then he was gone. I stood gaping for a moment, then decided I looked ridiculous staring after his disappearing car, and forced myself to go back indoors and shut the windows. I leaned back against the adjacent wall, a slow smile spreading across my face; and before long my cheeks were burning like a goddamn schoolgirl's. I quickly smacked myself lightly on the forehead. I was having a purely adolescent reaction to a reassuring, brotherly action. But then again, Dexter had never, ever voluntarily kissed me before. It was always me who initiated these little social niceties, and he had simply obliged. Determined not to get distracted, I revised my plan for tomorrow's workday. I wasn't going to let anything get in my way now.


End file.
